If you finally come,
And meet me home,
Seated in despair,
Looking like a failure,
A maniac in amnesia,
In a picnic of insomnia,
Just know I tried,
But my hands were tied.
If you see life rhymes,
Think not of a hymns,
Neither a complete flair,
Nor it as a myrrh.
Things make a dipsomania,
Too a megalomania,
Life's rhythm's sophisticated,
Hard to dance to it's rhapsody.
Sep 2, 2024
Sep 2, 2024 at 4:44 PM UTC
If you finally come,
And meet me home,
Seated in despair,
Looking like a failure,
A maniac in amnesia,
In a picnic of insomnia,
Just know I tried,
But my hands were tied.
If you see life rhymes,
Think not of a hymns,
Neither a complete flair,
Nor it as a myrrh.
Things make a dipsomania,
Too a megalomania,
Life's rhythm's sophisticated,
Hard to dance to it's rhapsody.